


The Eagle's Prey

by TheWaitingFangirl



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Altair is a goofy bastard when in love, Canon Divergence (kind of), Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Fluff and Smut, I'm Sorry, Mild Kink, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Reader Insert, Vaginal Sex, sue me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-18
Updated: 2015-07-18
Packaged: 2018-04-10 00:10:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4369664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWaitingFangirl/pseuds/TheWaitingFangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After receiving the title of Assassin, you're sent off to Damascus to accomplish your first assassinate. Altaïr is sent off to accompany you as well, the both of you spending the night together at the Bureau in Damascus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Eagle's Prey

**Author's Note:**

> Another request! I had a hard time writing this one, mostly because I never actually did write a smut, imagine it in english. It's not beta'd, so forgive me for any mistakes!
> 
> If you feel like sending me a request go ahead! I'll be glad to write it for you!
> 
> http://brohood-assassins-imagines.tumblr.com
> 
> Enjoy!

The nights at the desert were just as cold as the days were hot. After almost a whole day riding at the back of the horses, you and Altaïr finally sneaked inside Damascus, quickly entering the Bureau. You had a mission in the city, Altaïr merely accompanying you because of such mission.

The mission was given by one of the veterans, assigning Altaïr to go with you — after all, that was your first field mission! And, not showing off, you were one of the most talented recently graduated assassins. The only reason to Altaïr being assigned to “take care” of a novice, as he called you, was the rather higher ranked chore.

So yes, you were a proud novice.

Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad was a rather cocky man, everyone knew it. Well, if you were named a Master Assassin at the age of 25 you certainly would too, to be honest. What surprised you the most was that the man never dismissed your thoughts and almost always had some time between his missions — that bastard just seemed to don’t sleep — to stop by and have some small talk. Of course, as any of you weren’t fools, things developed until you and the assassin were referred as a couple through Masyaf.

Not that you were complaining.

Specially not when certain assassin pressed his slender body against yours and his breath tickled your neck slightly, his arms wrapped around you in a protective way.

“Altaïr… We’re at the Bureau.” You forced yourself to say, ignoring the smirk that you were mostly feeling than seeing.

“That’s what make things better.” Altaïr whispered back, brushing his lips against your ear. “If we keep quiet, the old Rafik won’t hear us.” Despiste the obvious cold personality, the man joked around quite a bit — of course, only when you two were alone. Specially when the subject was physical interaction. 

Specifically, sex.

“You’re not the exact definition of quiet while we make love.” You commented, receiving only a huff in return. His hand snaked down, loosening the red sash around your waist, you barely capable of holding back the laughter. The whole thing was crazy. And you were loving it as much as Altaïr. After discarding the piece of cloth, he shifted at the pillows you had carefully choosen to sleep, settling down just above you. “You’re a crazy ass.”

Altaïr gave you a side smile, eyeing you under him. “I’m watching over you, it makes sense.” He whispered before claiming your lips with a hungry kiss. The assassin caressed your hips with his calloused hands, pulling at the down parts of the outfit rather impatiently. His teeth scraped your lower lip before tugging at it and drawing a low whimper from the back of your throat. “Shhh…”

That much was easy for him. You gave him an annoyed look before pulling him back into the kiss, making the man come closer to your frame, one of his knees hitting the soft space of the pillows between your legs. Your tongues fighted a little over control before yours was quickly subjugated, the kiss slowing down a bit and assuming a more passionate way. Things were building quickly now, as you lifted your hand to press it gently against his crotch.

Altaïr hissed middle kiss, pulling away, his golden eyes slowly turning into an dark honey in the almost absent light of the Bureau. “Y/N…” He called, your free hand reaching his face and caressing his scarred lip with mild interest

“I like it. When you call me with your sex voice. It’s a turn on.” Altaïr frowned.

“I don’t have a sex voice.”

You smiled to him, reaching down and tugging at the red sash — identical to yours — wrapped around his waist. “Sure thing.”

“I’m serious.”

You smiled. “I know.”

Altaïr growled impatiently, holding your free hand firmly, pressing a loving kiss against the palm of it before intertwining fingers with you and pining it down. His head inched forward, peppering lazy kisses along your jaw to your ear, stopping only when your other hand brushed a sensitive spot at his crotch. “Let me handle this.”

You looked up at his hooded eyes, gaze hovering over his now pinkish lips. So now he wanted to call the shots. Good.

“You’re bossy.” You said with an intentional innocent voice.

The assassin frowned slightly and tipped his head to the side. “I’m not… bossy.”

“If you say so, Altaïr.” Your lips curled into a smile.

“You seem very fond of pointing out things about me today. Why?” He asked before benting over and kissing the area just below your ear, his thin beard tickling where it touched. Altaïr made his way down your neck, giving it lazy and sloppy kisses there before changing to the other side and repeating the process.

“Hmm… No point in explaining what everyone knows it’s true.” Altaïr chuckled at the back of his throat and pulled away as soon as he reached your jaw.

“I asked you why, Y/N.” His breath came directly in contact with your skin, tickling it. You frowned. So, he wanted to play. Great moment.

“Altaïr… Not now.” You moaned running your fingers lightly over his clothed shaft and his back arched slightly. His hand sneaked between your legs, the other keeping him from falling over you, the rough fingers caressing slowly your inner thigs in an almost feather like touch.

The assassin simply hummed, practically ignoring your plea. What you most hated about him was this almost unbearable amount of self control that he had, giving him time to make you squirm under his touch before finally taking you. “I like it.”

“What is it that you like?” Altaïr asked, his pads brushing lightly against your folds. You gave him an eager moan, tugging at his robes tightly. “Shhh…” The assassin touched it again, more carefree this time, sweeping through the moist warmth, the tip of his fingers sliding slowly over your clit and your head threw back in agony; your hips pushing back, seeking contact.

And, as soon as it began, stopped.

This man, you  _swear_.

As you gave him a displeased groan, Altaïr shuffled around, yanking your pants off just one leg — seriously, you two looked like a pair of eager young first timers, almost begging for closeness and touching. “Turn around.” He tugged your hips lightly, encouraging the action.

You turned around, lying your head over the soft pillow. Altaïr purred, delighted by your obedience. “You like it, don’t you? To be bossed around?” He asked and you could hear him shuffling again and then, his weight came over you, his hardened shaft nudging your back as the assassin cradled your hips carefully; tipping you to push them back. His chin rested over your shoulder, his breath lacking sync. “Tell me.”

“I like it. When you tell me what to do. When you do this to me.” You practcally moaned to him, hips pushing back, seeking warmth and an ending to your agony. “Please, Altaïr.”

The man hummed in approval, giving your neck a gentle bite as he pushed in with reckless care, groaning in the process. You felt him entering, the pleasure stained with a little bit of pain by the sudden invasion. Muffling your surprised moan, you felt his hands tightening the grip at your hips; trying to push back against him just to be held in place. You moaned again.“You like this, don’t you?” Altaïr asked, voice husky of lust, lying over you, his clothed chest fitting flatly over your back. “To be held and told what to do?”

“Ah… Yes. Yes, Altaïr…” The assassin smirked to himself, starting an crescent and unwavering pace until your hips pushed back unconsciously to meet his eager thrusts; All the while, he whispered dirty nothings into your ear with a rough voice alongside his breathy moans.

The sound of skin meeting skin made you worry quite a bit — sincerely, the last thing you would want right now was the old man entering the room and catching you both in action. Your nails tugged at the rough material of the pillows, turning around slightly to catch Altaïr’s mouth in a sloppy and carefree kiss while he pounded in you, the movement making your teeth clatter once or twice middle kiss. The assassin snaked one hand upwards, hugging your torso and pulling your body flush against his, moaning deeply in the process.

“Quite an efficient assassin… Aren’t you?” He commented, nibbling your ear, his voice wavering slightly. His other hand maintained a death grip at your hip — one that you were sure it would leave some marks.

“If you stop now…” You mumbled, voice low and lust-filled. Altaïr huffed, his rough hand caressing it’s way towards your clit, rounding it in slow motions, a shameful whimper escaping your throat. “Please…” Oh god, you were so close.

“What do you want Y/N?” Altaïr asked, his lips peppering small kisses at your clothed shoulder, never stoping his rhythm. “Tell me.”

“Don’t…” You breathed out an louder moan, the sensation building more quickly. “Just don’t stop.” Your voice got an octave higher, feeling the well known crescendo of pleasure, the man unstopping ministrations getting more erratic, loosing the rhythm, his breath coming out in puffs of air.

“I- I’m coming.” He whispered hurriedly, the only times he’d ever stumble with the words — this and having to make an apology to someone —, tightening the arm around your torso and burying his nose into the crook of your neck.

And then, it hit you.

“Oh, fuck! Altaïr!” Your orgasm came without a warning, forgetting anything about keeping quiet, pushing hips against his in a reflex, your walls clenched tightly, all that much being enough to push him over the edge.

“Y/N!” The man moaned, the hand that was occupied touching you stilling, his pace slowing down and hips snapping in short and shallow thrusts, riding the remainings of his pleasure.

“Oh, God. Altaïr…” You purred his name, still feeling the blissful peace washing over you as the man pulled away, leaving behind the cooling sweat between your legs. You moaned in displeasure of losing his heated body against yours shifted at the pillows, laying on your back; watching as the Master Assassing fixed his clothing in slow and languid movements, the hair a disheveled mess.

“You look good without the hood up, you know.” Altaïr looked up at you, a light smile playing over his features.

“You are always looking good.” He said, pushing your leg through the clothing of the half discarded robes still tangled at your knee. “We should sleep now. You have a mission tomorrow and I have to make sure you’re not going to fuck it up.” He bended over, kissing the corner of your mouth and you huffed.

“It would be easier to you to fuck things up with that big mouth of yours.”The man smiled.

“I can’t remember you complaining about this big mouth last time I used it.”

Damn him.

“I hate you.”

“You sure do. Goodnight, Y/N.” Altaïr mumbled uninterested as he coaxed you to his arms, pressing your forehead against his chest, leg throwed over his; the smell of sex and sweat heavy at the small room.

And, soon enough, you fell asleep, lulled by his steady and warm breath over your head, hands caressing lazy patterns at your back.


End file.
